


Life Is Shipwrecked

by VietnamVet



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VietnamVet/pseuds/VietnamVet
Summary: When five years of abandonment culminates in yet another day of zero-contact on Chloe Price's 18th birthday, her recreational drinking sessions quickly spiral into habitual binge-drinking, in an attempt to dull the pain and anger she felt over Max Caulfield's commitment to ghosting her. This resulted in her angel, Rachel Amber, who already owed her life to Chloe three years ago, feeling obligated to put her own dreams on the back-burner so that she could finally repay that debt and put the broken pieces of Chloe back together again...Jump forward one year later, to the night of March 28th 2013 - Chloe's drinking is worse than ever, Rachel's attempts to fix the hole in Chloe's heart have failed, and it takes an intervention from beyond the grave for Chloe to finally realize there was a deadly iceberg on the horizon; unless she wanted to go down with her ship, she needed to act now and reunite her crew if she was to have any chance at navigating the stormy seas ahead, lest she lose them forever.For Max, Chloe and Rachel, Life Is Shipwrecked... but hopefully together they can successfully repair and rearm their ship so that it is prepared for battle again, before they sail off into the sunset once more.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber & Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Rachel Amber & Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 25
Kudos: 54





	1. Not-So-Jolly Roger

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my second new fic of 2021!
> 
> So, first thing's first, the tags might make this fic seem a little dark. Well, It will be... but not for long, its only to set the scene. I intend for this fic to be more about the girls recovering and rebuilding their broken lives together, focusing on the light rather than the dark. I hope it doesn't put any of you off reading it!
> 
> This first chapter is shorter than usual, but that's just because it's pretty much an intro to the prologue, intended to get ya'll hooked. The next chapter will be longer, though.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Life Is Shipwrecked**

**Chapter 1: Not-So-Jolly Roger**

A heavily drunk Chloe Price sat alone in the Junk-yard 'Hideout' that she usually shared with Rachel, staring morosely at the various bits and pieces of their time together which were scattered around the place that they called their 'home away from hell', while continuing to down beer after beer at a steady pace as the nearby radio blasted rock songs at full volume. Unfortunately, this was not an uncommon occurrence For the past year, ever since turning 18, Chloe's consumption of alcohol had spiked dramatically; it could no longer be passed off as casual drinking – the truth is that Chloe had been binge-drinking for a while now just to numb her feelings, and tonight was shaping up to be no different.

I quickly downed the remains of my bottle, groaning to myself upon reaching for another and realizing I was already about to start on my fifth beer. I blinked for a moment and squinted down at my phone sitting on the table to check the time. It read March 28th, 7:26pm. I huffed loudly and returned to my beer, popping the cap and taking a large gulp before muttering out loud, "I can't believe you'd rather go to a stupid Vortex Club Bloc Party than hang out with me. Fuck you, Rachel."

I took another swig from the bottle before continuing, "You didn't even want to spend time with me on my fucking birthday last week. Some friend you turned out to be, huh? Don't think I can't see that you're starting to abandon me... Just like Max, just like Dad. Everyone in my life abandons me. Everyone."

I growled under my breath and started chugging the entire bottle in one go, not noticing that the radio had stopped pumping out music.

Once I'd finished downing the bottle, I belched loudly and frowned upon hearing it echo around the Hideout, realizing that it was now deathly silent.

An eerily familiar voice suddenly spoke up from the doorway, "You're wrong on all counts there, sweetheart."

I dropped the now empty bottle in surprise and unsteadily jumped to my feet before glaring towards the shadow standing at the entrance. "Bullshit! I haven't dreamed, seen or spoken to you in three fucking years, but now you show up? Now?! Just go away and let me drink in peace, Dad."

William slowly walked into the Hideout before stopping to glance at the wall with mine and Rachel's graffiti on it, then turned to face me and crossed his arms. "I stopped visiting you because the rules of the afterlife are... complicated, Chloe. In-fact, I'm breaking a lot of those rules just by being here right now. Normally, the dead aren't allowed to show ourselves to the living unless we are given passage through the veil, and even then, that's only granted if the person we want to see will actually benefit from our appearance. But we are always watching, even when you can't see us."

I snorted sarcastically. "So, what, I don't benefit from being able to see my dead father again?"

William sighed. "No, Chloe. You may not believe this, considering how drunk you are, but you already came to terms with my death years ago. There's nothing left about my death that my appearance can heal for you, it would only hurt you now. The things that you still attribute as me 'abandoning' you, is actually caused by the domino effect of everything else falling apart around you since I died, and the patterns and conclusions you draw from that which are automatically, and unfairly, applied to my death."

I scoffed. "If that's true, then why the hell are you breaking the rules to talk to me now if you think it's going to hurt me?"

William smiled sadly before gesturing at the empty bottles. "Because although I was only able to raise you for fourteen years, not once did I raise you to be a quitter, Chloe. I can't just stand here and watch you give up like this. You may no longer need my help to get over my own death, but you clearly need it to fix the feelings of abandonment you still have from Max, and it seems now Rachel as-well."

I collapsed back into the seat, winded, as if I was just punched in the gut. Once I was able to breathe again, I hissed through gritted teeth, "Screw you, Dad. Max abandoned me, it's as simple as that, end of fucking discussion. As for Rachel... I can just feel it happening."

William shook his head. "Wrong, and wrong. You think they've abandoned you, but perhaps you should try seeing things from their perspective, sweetheart."

I silently raised an eyebrow and impatiently motioned with a hand for him to continue.

He frowned slightly at that. "Well, I suppose I'll start with Rachel. She thinks she still owes you for saving her life here in the Junk-yard three years ago. I'm sure you're aware of how close you two have been since the first three days that you met – despite my warnings to be careful, I might add – when you repeatedly threw yourself into harms way to help her, and everything she's done has been to try to make up for that. As an example, ever since her father managed to get you back into Blackwell after you were expelled, she covered for every single one of your mistakes just to keep you from being kicked out a second time, even at the expense of her own exemplary school record and impressive grades. She's sacrificed a lot more than you think to keep you from spiralling, but once you started drinking most days after you turned 18, she began to realize there was nothing she could do. She'd overworked herself for nothing and felt like a failure, so she started distancing herself from you. Do you remember how eager she was to escape Arcadia Bay when you first met? She's falling back on that old habit again, her need for escapism."

I blinked several times, trying to understand most of what he'd just said. "So... basically, you're saying it's my fault she's abandoning me?"

William rubbed his face in frustration. "Fine, Chloe. If you want me to be blunt, then yes. It's your fault. And if you don't fix it, then that need for escapism will consume her. It'll be the death of her."

I stood up again at that, swaying slightly. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

William glanced up at the sky for a moment before returning his attention back to me and dropping his voice to a serious whisper. "All I can say is, do not let her go to that party tonight."

I huffed. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that? She already made it clear that she'd rather go to it than hang out with me."

William rolled his eyes. "Rachel needs a break from cleaning up after you, but she also needs something else to keep her distracted from her old habits. You see, she thinks she's tried everything possible to help you, and she's only half right – nothing she's done has completely worked, because the hole she's trying to fix can't be healed by her alone. You need to give her a way to help you that she thought you'd never consider... You need Max-"

I interrupted him by scoffing. "Like fuck do I need that traitorous bitch!"

William narrowed his eyes. "Chloe Elizabeth Price! I am only going to say this once, so listen carefully. You need Max to make you whole again. Argue all you want, but deep down you know it's true. What's more, Rachel needs Max to relieve the pressure she feels from constantly acting as your drunken crutch. You both need Max... And the truth is, right now Max needs both of you."

I chuckled darkly at that. "Max doesn't need me, or Rachel. She's probably having the time of her life up in Seattle. I mean, she's clearly forgotten about me, since she didn't even send me a card for my 18th fucking birthday!"

William hummed. "And there's the reason why you started drinking, sweetheart. It all comes back to Max. What I don't understand is, why you seem so content to sit around expecting her to come back to you. We both know Max was too shy and introverted to make the first move, she always followed your lead, remember?"

I groaned under my breath. "Yeah, but she's the one who left me, not the other way around. I shouldn't be the one chasing her."

William stepped closer and sighed. "I wish you weren't so stubborn, Chloe..."

I opened my mouth to respond, when the radio suddenly crackled back to life. "...Sad news today folks, the body of the 17 year old aspiring photographer Maxine Caulfield was discovered this morning, after..."

The radio abruptly turned off almost as quickly as it had turned on, plunging the Hideout back into silence and leaving me with the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

William came to sit next to me. "You didn't leave me any other option. Sorry, sweetheart."

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before turning to him. "What... the fuck... was that?"

William stared me in the eye. "The reason for you to keep fighting."

Then he casually pulled a pirate hat out of thin air and put it on. "I am hereby invoking the Not-So-Jolly Roger pirate code, one of your very own rules from back in the day, which in-case you forgot, means you must believe whatever I say next. So, are you listening kiddo? Right now, the Bane of Arcadia is heading towards a deadly Storm, and Captain Bluebeard is the only one onboard. She will need to reunite all of her pirate crew to have any chance at avoiding certain death – The three pirates together should be enough to balance out the negative forces that are at play, both within and without. Bloody Bill doesn't want to watch his daughter be the one Captain who gets swept up in the Storm and go down with the ship... and I'm afraid that this is going to be the last time you will see me, sweetheart, but I'll always be by your side, watching. Just know that Bloody Bill is still bloody proud of you and no matter what happens, I love you. Now go get your Angel to help you find your First Mate before it becomes too late to for any of you to change course."

Then he stood up and headed back towards the doorway without a backwards glance.

I blinked for a split second, but he'd already vanished and the radio had started playing rock music once again. I stared around at the empty Hideout, replaying the conversation in my head and wondering if that had really just happened or if I was so drunk that I'd managed to hallucinate it. Then my eyes settled back on the entrance, where a pirate hat was sitting on the ground which was definitely not there when I came in.

I dragged myself back to my feet, pocketed my phone, and slowly walked over to pick it up.

I carefully turned the pirate hat over in my hands. It was definitely the one he pulled out of thin air just moments ago. The tag on the inside read 'Property of Bloody Bill / William Price'.

I smiled down at it and whispered aloud, "Thanks, Dad."

It was at that moment when I suddenly realized the gravity of the situation and stumbled out of the Hideout and back towards my truck with his final words still echoing in my mind like the beacon of a lighthouse, shining through my drunken darkness just enough for the most important goal to become clear: Find Max.


	2. Course Correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel Amber's plans get ruined for the final time.
> 
> Now a blackout-drunk Chloe Price is going to get dragged up to Seattle to reunite with her long-lost best friend whether she wants to or not.
> 
> Rachel Amber manages to make first contact with the illusive Maxine Caulfield and demands a face-to-face meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! As promised, a longer chapter this time. Also, I forgot to mention that this fic is going to have multiple POVs. Last time it was Chloe's, and this one is Rachel's, so the next chapter will be from Max's perspective.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Life Is Shipwrecked**

**Chapter 2: Course Correction**

A stunningly beautiful Rachel Amber inspected her reflection in the small mirror on her desk, having spent the last couple of hours meticulously applying make-up in preparation for tonight's Vortex Club Bloc Party. She didn't particularly care about the Vortex Club snobs themselves, but as an honorary member of the Vortex Club, she got VIP access to all their parties and right now she didn't give a fuck about who was hosting it, she just needed a night to unwind and escape the ever-present feelings of failure that clung to her like a suffocating rain cloud always hanging above her head.

After double-checking my reflection one more time, I sat back and sighed to myself. It took longer than I'd hoped, but I was finally ready for the party. It'd already started over half an hour ago but nobody would care if I arrived late, and even if they did, fuck 'em. It's not like I'm going there for those snobbish ass-holes anyway. I'd already heard through the grapevine that Victoria wasn't going to be there this time, so at-least I'd be able to let my hair down for once without that bitch getting up in my face about some bullshit or other like she usually did. I shook my head to clear the thoughts away and stood up.

I was just about to grab my things and head out of my bedroom when there was a sudden loud banging coming from my window. I turned around to see none other than Chloe Price perched dangerously on the small ledge beneath my window as she stared at me, cross-eyed. She sluggishly motioned for me to let her inside and almost lost her balance while doing so.

I groaned internally. _"I can see from here that she's drunk off her ass again. For fuck sake, just when I hoped I'd get a night to myself for once."_

Still grumbling to myself, I quickly made my way over to the window and opened it, resulting in Chloe quite literally falling face-first into my room. She'd have probably broken her nose on the floor if I hadn't caught her in time. I was surprised that she'd managed to climb up to my window at all in this state, though the head-rush that she just received clearly obliterated what little remained of her conscious thoughts as she began grunting incoherently in my arms while I guided her across the room.

Once I'd gently laid her down on my bed and moved the trash can within reach just in-case she wanted to be sick, I sat next to her and silently screamed into my hands in frustration.

No matter how much I tried to distance myself from Chloe, she just wouldn't leave me the fuck alone. All she needed to do was get shit-faced and then come find me, knowing I'd drop everything just to take care of her. I couldn't exactly blame her for it, she was clinging to me for survival, and the fact that she went above and beyond for me when I needed her to three years ago kept stopping me from completely walking away, it was an unspoken debt that I could never truly repay since my efforts to help her always failed.

Yet as much as I loved Chloe, I just couldn't keep doing this any-more, she was dragging me down into the gutter alongside her and I needed to escape before I was unable to fix my own already miserable life too. And so I abandoned my plan to go partying tonight, instead resigning myself to watching over her once again to make sure she didn't choke on her own vomit. But this would be the last time. It had to be.

I moved to lie down next to her and stroked a hand through her hair to try to comfort her, ignoring how greasy it felt. At-least for that she actually had a decent excuse – ever since David the dickhead moved into her home, she didn't feel safe sleeping in her own bed and usually slept in the junk-yard instead, especially now that she was always drinking, so the only time she got to shower was when she was here at my house or when she visited me at the dorm room I had a Blackwell, which is where I normally spent my time, as far away from my lying bastard of a father as possible.

I glanced over at Chloe, and she appeared to have fallen asleep, or at-least her eyes were closed, though she was still muttering under her breath every now and then. I heard her say Max's name and rolled my eyes in annoyance. It came as no surprise that she'd gotten drunk because of that so-called 'best friend' that she kept pining over. I always thought it was odd how when Chloe was sober, she seemed to hate Max's guts, yet as soon as she started drinking, all she did was wish that Max was here. Never me, no, it was always the one who had abandoned her that she wanted, but she still expected me to clean up after her anyway.

Ever since she turned 18, her drinking had increased dramatically and rarely did a day go by that she didn't fall asleep completely drunk off her ass while crying out for Max. It was obvious that it was this fake-ass friend of hers that caused her to start drinking constantly, presumably because she didn't contact Chloe on her birthday, but the few times I dared to bring up Max's name in a casual conversation and offered to go with her to Seattle so that Chloe could finally get some answers, it always resulted in a heated argument where she flat out refused and then proceeded to get even more drunk, though whether it was to spite me or Max, I could never tell.

Getting tired of my thoughts running in circles and with nothing else to do, I decided to focus on listening to Chloe's incoherent rambling, or at-least the bits and pieces I could actually understand. After half a minute of listening, it became clear that something was different this time. Every-time she was drunk, she wished for Max to be here with her, it was always the same variation of that. Except for tonight, apparently. She mentioned her dead father a few times, and the word 'pirate' for some reason, but the main thing was that she kept repeating the phrase 'need to find Max', over and over again like her mouth was caught in a feedback loop.

I couldn't figure out what had changed this time, but since I'd already decided that tonight would be the last one I spend cleaning up Chloe's mess, I opted to do the unthinkable option and drag her drunk ass up to Seattle whether she really wanted to find Max or not, especially considering she'll be too hungover to attend Blackwell in the morning anyway so I might as-well skip with her so we can spend the whole day up there. And if it goes badly, then at-least I know I really tried everything to help her before officially walking away for good. She's probably going to hate me either way, so why not pull a hail-Mary and go out with a bang?

With my mind firmly made up, I ran through a quick mental checklist of things we'd need for this impromptu road trip before I pulled an old duffel bag out from under the bed that I'd originally planned to use when I finally escaped the Bay, and began gathering what was required. First, a spare change of clothes for both of us, and an extra set for me just in-case Chloe decides to puke all over me, plus there's no way I'm not letting the time I spent on tonight's outfit go to waste by not wearing it for the rest of the night, even if it gets ruined. Then I opened up my old survival kit that I'd never actually had a reason to use, pulling out the flash-light along with a box of first aid supplies to be on the safe side and packed them into the duffel bag.

I checked that Chloe was still asleep before exiting my bedroom and glancing around the dark hallway. I knew that my dad was going to be working at the office all night so he wasn't here right now, but I could hear Rose watching TV in the living room. For what I had to do, one out of two wasn't so bad, and at-least it was her here rather than my dad. I took a breath before heading downstairs and silently pivoting to the left, towards dad's home office. I quickly punched in the code to unlock the door and disable the alarm, which unbeknownst to my dad, I'd been aware of for a very long time. Idiot.

The door clicked as the code was verified, and Rose finally turned around from her seat in the living room. "Rachel, honey, what are you doing? You know you're not allowed in there when your father isn't home, and why are you dressed up so nicely?"

I groaned and walked into the office while calling over my shoulder, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "If he wants to keep me out of here, the dumb-ass shouldn't use my birthday for the code."

Instead of answering her other question, I walked straight over to one of the bookshelves and pried open a hidden panel where I knew my dad hid a few things for 'emergencies'. When he first told me about this, I didn't really give a fuck because it was just another one of his lame attempts at trying to make up for what he did three years ago, and I never wanted to give him the satisfaction of taking them, I wanted to escape the Bay my way. Although my hatred of dad still hasn't changed, right now I had no problem with using them, after-all, he did say they were supposed to be mine, not his. Besides, this trip wouldn't count as an escape since I'd be coming back tomorrow, as much as I desperately wished I didn't have to.

With my moral dilemma somewhat satisfied, I hesitantly withdrew a credit card that if I remembered correctly, had practically unlimited funds on it, desperately ignoring the nauseating feeling that I was secretly just as rich as Victoria Chase. The difference between us was that I tried to hide it, while she flaunted her status like the snobby bitch she is.

Then I slowly reached towards the back of the compartment and carefully pulled out a holster containing a pistol before reattaching the wooden panel. I wouldn't let my dad hear this now, but to his credit, he did a damn good job teaching me how to use a gun; it was necessary due to him being the DA, to make sure I was prepared in the event someone tried to break in, or kidnap me, or god knows what else. Of-course, the last time we went to a shooting range was over three years ago, before I knew he was a lying piece of shit. So I was probably very rusty with this thing, but I could feel my instincts already kicking in, just by holding it.

I walked back out of the office and closed the door behind me before nonchalantly sitting in the armchair in the living room, placing the credit card on one of the arm rests before extricating the pistol from it's holster so that I could inspect it.

Rose had finally realized what I'd come back from the office with, and her eyes went wide. "Rachel, what are you doing with one of your father's guns?!"

I snorted. "This is supposed to be mine, actually. Or did you forget he used to take me to the range when I was younger?" Then I blinked. "Wait, how many guns does he even have? Don't tell me he's hidden a bunch all over the house."

Rose frowned for a moment before proceeding to silently point out several places; one in the living room, one in the kitchen, and even one in the dining room under the grandfather clock.

I just stared at her, flabbergasted. "Are you fucking kidding me? Then why the hell did he hide this-" I gestured to the gun in my lap. "In his office, if it's meant to be for me to use in an emergency? How am I supposed to get to it if it's behind a door that I'm not even meant to know the entry code for?"

Rose shrugged. "Your father's logic can sometimes be... confusing. But since we have enough guns hidden down here, I'm sure he'd be okay if you kept that one in your bedroom instead, if it'll make you feel better."

I rolled my eyes. "And give him the satisfaction of knowing I've taken it? Nice try. It can stay in his office for all I care, so long as you don't tell him I know the code to get in. It's not like I care about the secret work shit he has hidden away in there, anyway."

Rose just grunted at that and quietly observed me while I went back to inspecting the gun.

I dumped the magazine and checked that it was fully loaded before swiftly replacing it and making sure the safety was still on. I didn't know where he kept the bullets for this thing, and there was no extra magazine to go along with it, so this would have to do. I hopefully wouldn't need to use it at all.

Once I slotted the gun back into it's holster, Rose spoke up again. "You still haven't told me why you're all dressed up, Rachel. Or what you even need that gun for, considering I haven't seen you touch one in over three years."

I crossed my arms defensively. "I was planning on going out to a party tonight until I got rudely interrupted by Chloe almost breaking her neck trying to climb in through my window, drunk off her ass like always."

Rose pursed her lips. "Ah... I still don't see why you insist on taking care of that girl. I know she's had a rough time and everything, but you've got to draw the line somewhere." Then she glanced at the gun and frowned. "Wait, did she hurt you, is that why you need the gun?"

I raised my eyebrows at her and scoffed. "I can't believe you'd even think that. She may be drunk all the time, but she would never hurt me. I wouldn't even be alive right now if it wasn't for Chloe, remember? She literally saved my life."

Rose flinched slightly at that, and gestured weakly at the gun. "Then... why on earth do you need that?"

I sighed. "Because I owe Chloe my life. But like you said, I need to draw the line somewhere. So I'm trying one last time to help her, and if it doesn't work out, then I'm done. I've tried everything I can think of up to now, except for forcing her to confront her demons. And that demon happens to be up in Seattle, so I'm dragging her drunk ass up there whether she likes it or not. I've never actually needed a gun in Arcadia Bay, since it's... relatively harmless here, but I don't want to risk spending a day wandering around a big city like Seattle without protection. That's why I'm taking it."

Rose furrowed her brow. "I see. So I assume that means you're skipping school again tomorrow?"

I huffed. "My attendance has already gone to shit, Rose. One more day isn't gonna make it much worse at this point and Wells wouldn't dare kick out the daughter of the DA anyway, not after the dirt I collected on him during my time as his admin assistant. I could easily get his drunk incompetent ass fired if it came to it. And as I said, if this thing with Chloe doesn't work, then I'm done cleaning up after her and I can finally focus on improving my grades at Blackwell. Now, if you don't mind, I need to finish packing and make sure Chloe hasn't choked on her own vomit already."

Rose reluctantly nodded, so I stood up, pocketed the credit card and attached the holster to my waistband before heading back upstairs.

I pushed through the door to my room and saw that Chloe was still asleep right where I'd left her and hadn't been sick so far. I made my way towards her and attempted to shake her awake, with no success. She really was out for the count. I hadn't seen her get this drunk in a long time, and I had a feeling that part of it was my fault for brushing her off so harshly earlier today. I shook that thought away, and interpreted it as a good thing instead, since we'd be well on our way to Seattle by the time she actually wakes up. The closer we get before she does, the easier it'd be to convince her to see this through to the end, rather than turn around empty-handed.

Since she was too busy napping to give it to me herself, I had to search through her pockets to see if she still had her phone. No such luck, it seemed. Though she did have the keys to her truck.

I wiggled them out of her jeans and frowned before heading over to the still-open window and peering out into the darkness. From this angle I could only see a small section of the road as it made it's way past the front of the house, but it didn't take long for me to spot Chloe's tetanus infection on wheels sitting haphazardly on the side of the road, sticking out like a sore thumb.

I glanced between the truck and Chloe several times before exclaiming out loud, "You seriously fucking drove here? Sometimes I wonder how you're even still alive."

Well, I suppose that makes things even easier then, if I drive her truck then she definitely won't be able to stop me from taking her to Seattle, since she absolutely hates wasting gas. Plus, now I don't need to use the family car.

I went to shut the window but stopped half-way, noticing something sitting outside on the ledge that Chloe had been balancing on before. I reached out to grab it, and realized it must be her phone. I assume it fell out of her pocket when she almost face-planted through the window trying to climb in.

I closed the window the rest of the way, then sat at my desk with her phone in my hand. I'm not much of a snoop, and I respect Chloe's privacy... most of the time, but this was not one of those times. To hell with privacy. I already knew her phone's unlock code was '0921', though I never figured out what it meant. Once I was inside, I brought up her contacts list and scrolled through it until I found what I was looking for. One 'Max Caulfield'. I was tempted to try calling the number right now, but I decided against it, instead I brought up their text messages, which were incredibly one-sided. Their initial correspondence years ago fizzled out pretty quickly, followed by a lengthy silence, and then came a long string of texts not long after Chloe had turned 18. Chloe had sent her a lot of texts since then and from the looks of it, they'd all been sent while she was drunk. With each one I read, I felt a piece of my heart breaking for the poor girl sleeping on my bed. Most of her texts were variations of angry rants about being abandoned, while the more recent ones had devolved into Chloe quite literally begging for Max to just talk to her. But Max hadn't replied to a single one.

I turned my gaze back to Chloe and I finally understood just how much pain she was in. Everything made sense now. Her best friend hadn't just moved to Seattle right after Chloe's dad died, but she'd completely and utterly ghosted her for years, and I was left to pick up the pieces. So I vowed right there and then, once I find this girl, I would give her one single chance to explain herself and if I wasn't absolutely satisfied then I was gonna make sure Max wished she was dead for how badly she hurt Chloe.

In an attempt to contain my anger, I got out of my seat and grabbed one of my coats, zipped the duffel bag up and threw the strap over my right shoulder, then I focused on trying to pull Chloe off my bed. She was so out of it that she could probably get swept up in a tornado and still wouldn't be woken up. She was 100% dead weight in my arms as I started dragging her out of my bedroom with one of her arms dangling over my left shoulder being the only thing keeping her on her feet.

Chloe was so heavy that I almost slipped going down the stairs, thankfully I managed to catch my footing at the last second and recovered.

Rose hadn't moved from her spot in the living room and turned around when she heard the commotion. "Oh my, she looks dreadful. Are you okay, Rachel? Do you need a hand?"

I grunted and waved her away. "Nope. It's fine, I got this."

My poor back wholeheartedly disagreed with my statement, but I wasn't about to tell her that. Instead, I continued struggling alone, making it to the front door and wrenching it open with my free hand before stepping out into the cold evening, then closing it behind us with my foot.

Now began the journey down the street to our right, over to where Chloe's truck was parked. We eventually made it without either of us collapsing to the ground, and luckily in her drunken state, Chloe had left the truck unlocked. So all I had to do was yank the door open and make sure Chloe was sitting upright before going around to the driver's side and climbing in myself. It's a good thing that our neighbourhood has very little criminal activity because the DA lives in it, otherwise Chloe might've lost her truck. Then again, nobody in their right mind would steal a piece of shit truck like this from one of the richest residential areas in Arcadia when there's half a dozen sports cars sitting in people's driveways just on this street alone.

It's a good thing Chloe had taught me how to drive this rust bucket, otherwise I'd probably be screwed right now. I mean, she rarely lets me drive it unless she's drunk, but at-least she had the decency to teach me anyway. So as I inserted her keys and the truck groaned to life, I just hoped that this thing had enough life left in it to reach our destination, since it'd never gone outside the confines of the town before now. I quickly swiped through my phone to bring up the map and then began the suffocatingly silent four hour drive from Arcadia Bay to Seattle.

I managed to drive about half-way before running into a huge queue of traffic on the highway, which was backed up as far as the eye could see. After joining the back of the line with a frustrated sigh, I decided to use this spare time to look for somewhere we could spend the night in Seattle. Part of me wanted to find the most expensive five-star hotel as a fuck-you to my dad, but I reluctantly stomped down on that urge and settled on a standard-looking motel instead that wouldn't care about late night drunken arrivals. I glanced back up while my car crawled forward and could see flashing lights off in the distance, though it was too far away to make out any details yet.

I looked over at Chloe to see that she was still sleeping, and wondered how the hell I was even going to find Max. It's not like Chloe ever told me where in Seattle she lived, and I had a feeling she didn't know anyway. So unless we wanted to randomly comb the streets looking for any sign of Max who most likely no longer resembled the five year old contact image in Chloe's phone, then the only option was to try texting her from said phone. Though if the countless other ignored messages were any indication, I doubt she'd even respond.

Once I swiped her phone off the dash and keyed in her unlock code, I sat there for a while as the traffic still barely moved in-front of us, wondering what I could possibly say to get her to reply, if Chloe's drunken rants and begging didn't work. I checked Chloe's call history and noticed that she never tried to actually call Max's number, only text it. So I figured I'd try the direct route instead and pressed the call button. It rang, and rang, and rang some more, eventually going to voicemail. I growled under my breath and swiped through the phone to hastily send a text, letting my anger get the better of me.

Chloe Price: Max, answer your fucking phone! This is a friend of Chloe's, not her. It's an emergency. If you do not pick up when I call again in a second I swear that whatever you think Chloe will do to you for ghosting her will be nothing compared to what I will do when I finally find you, you cowardly bitch. Now answer!

Then I pressed the call button again, impatiently tapping my foot as I waited.

Just when I thought it was about to go to voicemail, I heard a click, signifying that the call had connected, which took me by surprise.

I sat there for a few seconds expecting her to say something, but there was total silence on her end of the phone, so I went first. “...Max? Are you there?”

A sharp exhale come from who I presumed was Max, though she still didn't speak.

I sighed heavily. “Max, my name is Rachel. A friend of Chloe's, like I said. Look, I'm not sorry for what I texted, but I won't bite your head off just yet, so long as you talk to me.”

Max audibly gulped and finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “You said it's an emergency. Is... Chloe okay?”

I had to literally bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something nasty, and glanced over at Chloe before replying, “No. She's really, really, not. Have you even read the texts she sent you?”

Max went quiet for a moment before muttering, “I've read every single one...”

I exploded before I could stop myself. “Then why the fuck did you ignore her? The least you could've done is respond when she resorted to begging like a six year old for your fucking attention!”

I heard a faint sob come from the other end of the phone before Max replied. “Don't you think I wanted to?! But... I couldn't, okay? I just... couldn't. Besides, I'd have just made things even worse.”

I growled into the phone. “You mean worse than Chloe getting blackout drunk almost every day and wishing you were by her side instead of me?”

Max was silent again, this time for so long that I thought she'd hung up on me, before she eventually choked out, “She what?!”

I let out a frustrated breath. “You heard me. I've had to pick up the pieces of Chloe that you broke ever since I met her three fucking years ago, but after tonight I'm done trying to fix her. No matter how much I despise you for what you did to her, I can't fill the hole you left behind. This right here is my last option.”

Max's breath hitched. “So, what is 'this', exactly?”

I turned my attention to the road briefly as I changed lanes to go around what was now clearly a massive three car pile-up that had closed off all but one lane of the highway, before I responded with, “Chloe got drunk again tonight like she usually does, though she hasn't been this drunk in quite a while, and I've had enough. So we're driving up to Seattle. I'm on the road right now, with Chloe who's still passed out next to me. It's time for you two to kiss and make up.”

Max gasped. “Oh shit, really? Fuck. Uh... I don't... think that's a good idea.”

I spat into the phone. “Sorry Max, but this is happening whether you and Chloe want it to or not.” I went quiet for a moment before letting my mask slip ever-so-slightly and continuing, “I can't fix her, Max. Not on my own. She needs her best friend back, and from the stories she used to tell me, I'm pretty sure the same goes for you. The two of you were supposedly inseparable as kids, for fuck sakes! Is there somewhere in Seattle that we could meet up and talk face to face? Just me and you first. Preferably somewhere with greasy food. I need to know what Chloe's walking into here before I decide if I can actually let her rip you a new ass-hole, and she's gonna need food for the one hell of a hangover she'll have when she wakes up in the morning.”

Max hesitated, repeatedly starting and stopping her sentence before finally making up her mind. “I guess I can do that, so long as you don't ambush me with Chloe. I'm... not ready to face her yet. Meet me at the Blue Moon diner. There's only one, so you'll find it easily.”

I nodded to myself. “Okay, will do. We're about half an hour away now, but I need to get Chloe's drunk ass into a crappy motel bed first, so I'll be there in an hour. And Max... Thank you.”

Then I ended the call before she had a chance to back out of our meeting, and chucked the phone back onto the dash. I let out a heavy breath that I didn't realize I was holding, before turning to Chloe's still-sleeping form and tucking a stray hair behind her ear while whispering, “If this doesn't go well, I hope you can forgive me. I love you, but there's nothing more I can do to repay the debt I owe you than reuniting you with your best friend. So if you can't find a way to make this work, then... I'm sorry but this is where we have to part ways, Chloe.”

I furiously swiped away a tear and tried my best to ignore the thought of breaking Chloe's already broken heart after everything she's been through, and focused my attention back on the road for the rest of the drive to Seattle.


	3. White Flag Stained Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max Caulfield abandons her daily ritual of self-hatred to attend an unexpected late night meeting/interrogation with Chloe Price's new friend, fearing the worst.
> 
> What she never saw coming was the possibility that this Rachel Amber would be able to single-handedly pull out all her secrets over one plate of belgian waffles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just a heads up, this is one of those dark chapters I mentioned. I tried not to be too graphically descriptive, but... yeah. If you want to skip this one, I'm totally okay with that. Otherwise...
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Life Is Shipwrecked**

**Chapter 3: White Flag Stained Red**

A severely depressed Max-Never-Maxine Caulfield stood in her pitch-black bedroom, staring at her now-blank phone screen, frozen in place as she replayed the conversation she'd just had over and over again in her mind and repeatedly berated herself for agreeing to meet some random stranger who claimed to be a friend to the very person that she abandoned when she'd needed her the most. And oh boy did she now understand just how much pain Chloe must've been in without Max to support her. Karma sure is a bitch.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed. So, not only did Chloe presumably hate me, and rightfully so, but the person she replaced me with made it very clear that she also hated me. I couldn't exactly blame her either, knowing the state Chloe was in right now. I knew it was my fault that Chloe was apparently getting drunk everyday. I caused that. Just like when I... I-

I violently shook my head to derail the train of thought I was heading down. Nope, now is not the time to remind myself about that. I've done it enough today already. Then I felt something warm trickle down my forearm and absent-mindedly scratched it away, instantly regretting it and hissing in pain. All that thinking had made me forget exactly what I was right in the middle of doing before I was rudely (or thankfully, mumbled a tiny part of my brain) interrupted by the phone call I'd just received.

Lazily standing up again, I flicked on the crappy bedroom light, glancing around my horribly messy room which was contrasted by it's completely bare walls before reluctantly turning my gaze down to my arm, only to see part of it smeared with blood. I knew it wasn't as bad as it looked, since I hadn't gotten very far before this Rachel person had called me, but I'd still need to wash it off in the bathroom.

I was just about to go do that when I spotted something glinting in the corner of my eye. I turned around and saw the offending pocket-knife that I'd been using sitting on the bedside table where I'd left it to answer my phone. I hesitantly walked over and gingerly picked it up, staring down at the blade which was still slick with blood while my thoughts quickly began to swirl around like a vortex once more.

There was no point washing the blood off my arm right now... I hadn't finished yet. But did I even need to? This was already more than sufficient as my daily punishment for abandoning Chloe... Or at-least it would've been until I found out that Chloe was practically drinking herself to death because of me. That thought hammered at me repeatedly and I wasn't even aware of moving the knife until I felt the cold metal make contact with my arm, at which point I surprisingly managed to snap out of it and hurled the knife across the room. It was sharp enough to put a noticeable red-stained dent in the wall before clattering to the ground.

I rushed out of my room without a backwards glance and across the hall to the bathroom. After switching the light on, I dumped my arm into the sink before turning the water on and gritting my teeth at the pain as it flowed across my arm, washing away the thin layer of blood as it dripped down the drain. Once I'd gotten rid of most of it, I grabbed some toilet paper and attempted to wipe up the few splotches of red that were still sitting in the sink before flushing it down the toilet – I didn't want anyone knowing, after-all – and returned to my bedroom.

I pointedly ignored the pocket-knife still laying on the floor and made a bee-line straight to the mirror instead, which was the only thing still hanging on my wall, and took a deep breath before flipping it around so that I could stare at my reflection for the first time in ages. Though before I could even look at myself, an old picture of a younger me and Chloe caught my eye, still taped to the corner where it'd stayed for years. It was both a source of joyful memories and painful reminders. Thankfully, this time it was more of the former.

I reluctantly pulled my gaze away from the photo and made eye contact with my reflection, who smirked at me. “There's no point lying to yourself, Max. You know exactly what was going to happen tonight if it wasn't for that phone call. Stop being such a cowardly piece of shit. If you want to punish yourself so badly then there's no better way to do that than finally coming face to face with the best friend you left behind. And hey, on the 0.01% chance that her new friend – or Chloe herself – doesn't kill you, then maybe you can spend the rest of your life making up for your mistakes. Unless you'd rather take the easy way out when Chloe needs you again, like you always do?”

I glanced at the picture in the corner again before glaring back at the reflection and shaking my head. “No. Not this time. I'm not going to abandon Chloe again. Not after everything that happened when I tried to get back to her. Now she's the one coming to me, and I'm not going to miss the chance to see her again, even if this is just karma toying with me at this point.”

My reflection raised an eyebrow at me. “Then the least you could do is have a shower. You look like shit, Max. You don't want to give Chloe's new friend the impression that you're some homeless person. Or... do you?”

Talking to myself used to help with organizing my anxious thoughts when I was younger, until those thoughts turned dark and depressing instead, which is when I stopped looking in mirrors. Until now, apparently. So I gave my reflection a middle finger in response, then flipped the mirror back around before stomping off to the bathroom again to make myself look somewhat presentable for the meet up that I'd stupidly agreed to.

However, despite the importance of this late night meeting, I really couldn't be bothered with taking a shower. So I settled for washing my face and splashing water on my hair in the sink like the lazy fuck I was, to at-least make it look like I might've had a shower. Then I picked out the least dirty pair of jeans along with a thick hoodie to hide my arms, before grabbing my phone and heading off to the Blue Moon diner. The main reason I picked it was because the last thing I wanted was to be walking around alone at this time of night, and it was just a few blocks away from my house, so it would only take a short walk to get there.

Once I arrived, I stood across the road from it and stared through the windows to see who was inside. As I expected, the diner was mostly empty, with a few overnight truckers grabbing a bite to eat and a couple of drunk teens sat in one corner. I realized I didn't even know what this Rachel person looked like, but I assumed neither of them was her and that I must've gotten here first, so I .reluctantly crossed the road and went in the diner.

As soon as I opened the door, I headed straight for the table closest to it, on the opposite side of the diner from the drunk teens, and sat in the booth facing them, watching them warily with one eye just in-case I needed to make a quick getaway from them. Or Rachel, if this meeting went poorly. The only waitress working at this time of night soon made her way over, and she seemed barely older than I was but she looked just as exhausted as I felt. Unfortunately I didn't have much money on me so I just ordered a cup of coffee to keep me occupied while I waited for Rachel.

I was sipping on my coffee and kept glancing out the window at the cars that occasionally drove past. Ten minutes later, a horribly worn and rusted truck turned around the corner and slowly made it's way up the street before parking outside the diner. It looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment. Why the hell would anyone drive an ugly piece of crap like that? I was even more stunned when the driver, who was a blonde girl that looked like she'd dressed for some kind of fun night in town, clambered out of the truck and scanned the windows of the diner much like I had done. She made eye contact with me and I instinctively looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring at her.

The blonde girl entered the diner and I took a sip of my coffee to hide myself from view, only to realize it was already empty, so I stared down at the table instead, pretending to be oblivious.

She loomed over me in my peripheral vision with her arms crossed. “Max, I presume?”

I nodded ever-so-slightly and groaned internally. _“Well that's just fucking great... of-course the pretty blonde girl driving a crappy truck that caught me staring also happens to be Rachel, Chloe's new best friend. Could this already be any-more awkward?”_

Rachel took my silent nod as a yes, and slid into the booth across from me.

When she didn't speak, I glanced up and saw that she too was staring at me, but it was more like she was studying me, or scrutinizing me. And unlike me, she didn't shy away when I made eye contact. Hell, she didn't even blink. It felt like my soul was being probed, and I anxiously glanced at the door behind her with a primal urge to flee.

Rachel must've noticed my panic because she suddenly blinked and slouched back against the seat before saying, “Sorry. I've just wondered for a long time what kind of person could completely abandon their best friend like you did, and... you're definitely not what I expected.”

I winced at her words and mumbled, “What were you expecting?”

Rachel shrugged and thought for a moment. “I dunno. Some kind of total bitch, I suppose. But you look like you're about to fall apart. Uh... no offence.”

I audibly gulped at that. “Well, you're not wrong.”

Rachel sighed. “Look, I'm trying really hard not to lose my shit right now, because you really fucked her up, Max. So I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you did what you did. And if I'm not satisfied with it, then I guarantee that Chloe won't be either.”

I shrunk further into the booth at the idea of explaining any of  _that_ to someone who's basically just a stranger.

Rachel rolled her eyes at my reaction. “I'll give you some time to think about it. I want to order some food first, anyway. What's good here?”

I furrowed my brow at the unexpected subject change. “Uh... I've only been a few times. The Belgian waffles are amazing here though.”

Rachel snorted at that. “Why am I not surprised you're a Belgian waffler?” Then she pulled out her phone and hummed to herself before continuing, “Belgian waffles at 1am? Sure, why the fuck not? And Chloe's gonna need something hella greasy for her hangover, too. Lucky for her, I know what her favourite hangover cure is.”

I'm sure my flinch didn't go unnoticed by Rachel, but she chose not to bring it up. Instead, she pulled a black card out of her pocket and placed it on the table.

I raised an eyebrow curiously. “What's that?”

Rachel frowned down at the card. “It's... uh, basically an unlimited credit card. It means I'm a rich bitch. The perks of my father being Arcadia Bay's DA, I guess.”

She shuddered at that for some unknown reason.

I tilted my head in thought. “Hmm. I don't suppose your dad was the DA five years ago?”

Rachel nodded. “Yeah he was. Why?”

My eyes went wide. “Holy shit, so your last name must be Amber, right? I thought your name sounded familiar, I remember your dad tangling with the Prescott's a few times back then.” I glanced out the window at the truck she arrived in, and back to her, confused. “Hold on, if you're rich, then why are you driving that shitty thing?”

Rachel glared at me for a moment and opened her mouth to say something, then abruptly closed it again and started giggling. “You're right, my last name is Amber, though I don't much care for it any-more. Anyway, that's actually Chloe's truck, not mine. And I was going to tear you a new ass-hole for insulting her baby, but I ask myself that same damn question all the time, so you'll get a free pass.”

I stared at her, horrified. “Oh crap, I'm sorry. I didn't even think that it could've been Chloe's truck...”

Rachel put her hands up to silence me. “It's fine. Like I said, you get a free pass for that one.”

I slowly nodded and stayed quiet.

Rachel took that as her cue to call over the waitress and relayed her order when she arrived. “Can I get two Belgian waffles, two cups of coffee, and a to-go box of Bacon and Eggs with extra Bacon and it's own cup of coffee, please?”

The waitress wrote everything down before nodding and walking away.

I turned to Rachel and crossed my arms. “Did you just order food for me? I didn't ask you to do that. I can't afford it...”

Rachel shrugged and gestured to the black card on the table. “Relax, I'm paying for everything. I'm rich as fuck, remember? And no way am I going to sit here and eat on my own, Max. Besides, it's the least I can do considering that even if you survive this meeting with me and I let you see Chloe, she'll most likely want to greet you with a broken nose or something, and that's if you're really lucky.”

I put my head in my hands and groaned. “She really hates me, doesn't she?”

When she didn't say anything, I peeked through my fingers and saw that she had a pensive look on her face.

Then she hesitated for a moment, before ultimately shaking her head. “Yes and no. I mean, she's absolutely fucking furious with you, and I may be hiding it right now but so am I. However, there's clearly a part of her that still longs to see you again, to talk to you. She might not admit it while sober, but she wants her best friend back. I'm very good at picking up on the things that other people try to keep hidden. So, are you going to tell me why you ghosted her?”

I rested my hands on the table and stared down at them. “I know this will sound like an excuse and you won't believe me, but... If Chloe told you anything about me, then you know I have pretty bad anxiety. So when her father died, she wasn't the only one grieving for him, and then I got dragged up here to Seattle all alone when Chloe had always been my anchor. Without her, my anxiety took over. I already felt like shit for leaving when I did, part of me stupidly blamed myself for her father's death even if that made no sense, and the guilt just kept piling up. Every-time I texted her, it made me feel more and more like a terrible friend for not being there in person. Eventually my anxiety convinced me that she didn't need me at all and that I was just making things worse, so I stopped texting her back. When she began sending me those angry rants, it just confirmed what I was already thinking, but then she started begging for me to reply instead and... well, I thought that if I finally replied at that point then she'd just take it as me pitying her or something, and I didn't want that either. So I didn't. It's lame, but anxiety is my answer.”

Rachel studied me with a blank expression on her face for a whole minute before she finally said, “I believe you. However... I can also tell that what you said is only a half-truth. Like I said, I'm good at picking up on these things. There's more to it than just anxiety. So, I hate to push you on this since I assume it's nothing good and I'm just a stranger to you, but I really can't let you see Chloe without knowing the full story, Max.”

I mentally kicked myself for being unable to convince her and frantically shook my head. “No... I- I can't. I just can't.”

Rachel grimaced. “Please, Max. Chloe saved my life, I owe her this. I can't go back to her with a failure. I need you to tell me so we can move forward.”

My eyes darted around the diner, landing on the door. “You d-don't understand. I c-can't tell anyone... If- if I do... I- I can't do this, I'm sorry. I have to go.” Then I abruptly stood up and attempted to rush for the door.

Rachel grabbed at my wrist before I could escape. “Max, wait!”

Her grip tightened as I tried to pull away, and her fingernails dug into my wrist causing me to yelp and recoil in pain.

Rachel instantly let go, and stared at me in surprise as I stumbled back, clutching at my wrist. “Shit, I didn't think I was grabbing that hard. Are you okay?”

I tried to wave it away. “Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to leave, okay?”

Rachel glanced down at my wrist and gestured towards it. “Unless I did that, you are definitely not fine, Max.”

I furrowed my brow at her and looked down at my wrist to see red already starting to seep through the sleeve of my hoodie and scrambled to hide it from view while mumbling, “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

Rachel just looked at me with a strange expression before standing up from her seat. “You might be able to fool yourself with that, but it's not gonna work on me.” Then she quickly scooped up my hand before I could run away and continued, “It's a good thing I decided to grab some first aid supplies for the trip up here, they're in the truck right now. Let me help, and then we can eat. If you still want to leave afterwards, then I won't stop you. Deal?”

She gently squeezed my hand when I didn't immediately respond, making it clear that I couldn't get out of this situation without making even more of a scene, so I just shrugged and resigned myself to the humiliation coming up, letting her lead me over to the door of the diner.

Rachel turned to spot the waitress hanging around nearby, looking confused. “We need to take care of something, but we'll be back in a few minutes. Just leave the food at our table if it's ready before we return, please.”

The waitress smiled in understanding and headed off to the kitchen area while Rachel dragged me outside and towards her – or rather Chloe's – truck. She opened the passenger side door and ushered me inside, then jogged around to the other side and got in herself. Once inside, she reached down at her feet and rummaged around in what I guessed was a duffel bag before finding what she needed.

Rachel straightened up with a smallish box in her hands and raised an eyebrow when she noticed I was staring. “When you want to stare at someone's ass, you're supposed to do it without making it obvious. You know, so you don't get caught?”

I frowned at her in confusion for a moment before her sentence registered in my brain and I felt my face heating up. “What? No! I wasn't-” I stopped and took a breath before continuing, “I didn't realize you had a gun, that's all.”

Rachel blinked and glanced down at the holster attached to the side of her waistband – definitely not her ass – and noticed it was now poking out from underneath her shirt after it'd risen up slightly when she was trying to find the box of first aid supplies. “Oh. Right. Another perk of my father being the DA. Don't worry, it's just for protection. A big city like Seattle is far more dangerous than Arcadia Bay, I didn't want to take any risks.”

I shrugged at her and watched as she unfastened the holster from her waistband, then placed it on the dashboard away from us. I gave it one more wary glance before turning my attention back to my still-stinging and still-bleeding wrist.

Rachel reached out towards my sleeve but stopped at the last second before asking, “Can I see?”

I gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible, nod of permission, then wrenched my eyes shut and braced myself for the inevitable.

I felt my sleeve roll up slightly, but Rachel didn't say anything. She didn't even gasp. I heard the box pop open and felt something touching my wrist, causing me to reluctantly open an eye. Rachel was just sitting there and silently wiping the blood away. I forced myself to look in her eyes and was extremely surprised to see no judgement within them.

I couldn't stop my mouth from moving in time and blurted out, “Why aren't you saying anything?”

Rachel froze at that for a moment, before holding out her left arm and turning it over so I could see her wrist. “You're not the only one who's done this, Max. I mean, it was a few years ago now, and I got a tattoo to cover up the few scars that wouldn't completely heal, but I still did it. I was in a dark place for a while until Chloe caught on to what I was doing. The tattoo was actually her idea.”

I stared down at the huge yellow star on the inside of her wrist that I'd somehow not even noticed before. “Oh.”

Rachel just shrugged and returned to cleaning my wrist before sighing a minute later when she couldn't roll the sleeve any further. “Uh, could you take off the hoodie for me, please? This'll be easier without it getting in the way.”

I panicked briefly at the idea of taking it off. I always wore a hoodie in public, it was like my armour and I felt naked without one. Besides, I had a damn good reason to keep it on. Rachel only had a few wrist scars from the looks of it, she didn't know the extent of mine. But all I had to do was glance into her eyes again, only to see warmth and compassion, which was strong enough to melt away my worries.

So I took a deep breath and pulled the hoodie up and over my head, unable to look anywhere except at a hole in my jeans while I waited for her reaction.

This time, Rachel did gasp, causing me to instinctively curl up against the seat with my eyes screwed shut again.

Rachel was silent for a while, uncomfortably so, as she was presumably staring in horror at the amount of scars I actually had.

Until I suddenly felt her hand stroke my cheek and flinched, opening my eyes in confusion.

Rachel froze up again, realizing she'd probably gone too far, before she compromised and stroked with just her thumb instead.

Eventually she just asked, “Why?”

I glanced down at the arm containing the freshly bleeding cut I'd made a couple of hours ago and followed the trail of scars still in various states of healing and fading that went all the way to just below my shoulder, before looking at the scars littering my other arm which only went up to my elbow.

It'd been a while since I purposely looked at them all and a sob escaped my mouth before I could swallow it back down. “I wasn't lying about what I said earlier.”

Rachel nodded at me and decided to get back to work cleaning up my cut as best as she could after I refused to let her use a bandage because I didn't want to draw even more attention to it. “I know you weren't lying, Max. You just didn't tell me the whole story.” Then she gently held my hand before adding, “I want to know what could've possibly made you do all of... of that.”

I'd never opened up to anyone about this. I knew it was dangerous. But the fact that Rachel had now seen all my scars and hadn't run for the hills yet, and still wanted to know the truth... made me want to tell her. Consequences be damned. Part of me was sick of keeping it all locked away inside anyway.

So I looked up into her eyes, and the first thing I said was, “Promise me that you won't tell any of this to Chloe.”

Rachel nodded immediately. “She might get pissy with me for holding out on her but I promise I won't say anything. Whatever it is, you should be the one to tell Chloe, not me.”

Even if I kinda wanted to let the truth out, I was still scared shitless and could already feel myself starting to sweat. So in an effort to stall for time while I thought of the best way to start, I lifted up the front of my shirt to wipe my face. Which was a big mistake, because I'd momentarily forgotten that it wasn't my hoodie I was using, and stupidly thought I still had my shirt underneath keeping me covered. So I'd briefly flashed my bare stomach at Rachel without realizing it, until I let the shirt drop away and saw the look of horror on Rachel's face.

I hadn't caught on to my screw up just yet though, and frowned at her. “What's wrong?”

Rachel took a worried breath before speaking. “When you lifted your shirt... I, uh, saw the bruises.”

I flinched hard at that and curled in on myself again while mumbling, “...Fuck. Damn it!”

Rachel put a hand on my knee and spoke gently, “Max, I know it must be incredibly hard for you to open up about any of this and I realize I'm really pushing my luck here, but... would you take off your shirt, please?”

I glanced up at her in shock. “What...? No, I can't just take my shirt off in-front of you! That's-”

Rachel rolled her eyes and interrupted me. “I assume you're wearing a bra under there, right? Then I don't give a shit about that right now. I just want to see how bad your bruises are. You haven't even started telling me the whole truth about why you ghosted Chloe yet, but what I've seen so far is painting one hell of a scary picture.”

I don't know what it was about Rachel that made me so compelled to keep doing what she asked. She began this meeting ready to rip my head off, and now she was being kind, and gentle, and seemed to care about my safety. Even when I deserved none of that for what I'd done to Chloe.

So again, I obeyed, and reluctantly pulled the shirt over my head. She was right about me wearing a bra, but that didn't stop me from shyly wrapping my arms across my chest in embarrassment. Whether it was from simply being half-naked in-front of a stranger, or from the fact I was allowing said stranger to see everything that I'd tried so hard to hide until now, I wasn't entirely sure.

I couldn't stop myself from blushing as Rachel's eyes roamed up and down my bare stomach and bra-covered chest, taking in every detail.

She eventually muttered, “Max, who did this to you?”

I stared down at my knees as I whispered, “My... My D-Dad. He-”

Rachel's eyes went wide and she held up a hand to stop me. “Shit. Okay, you don't need to say any-more about that right now. Just start from the beginning first, with whatever you were going to say before I saw the bruises.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure you want to know? The truth is... some heavy shit.”

Rachel went silent for a while as she contemplated her response. “I figured as much. And I do still want to hear it. But... would you be more comfortable if you told it to both me and Chloe at the same time? So you don't have to go through telling it twice.”

I blinked at her and slowly nodded my head. “...Kinda, yeah. But I thought you said the whole point of this meeting was so you could drag the truth out of me before letting me anywhere near Chloe?”

Rachel shrugged. “I've seen and heard enough already to convince me that ghosting Chloe wasn't completely your fault. So I'll make sure that she listens to whatever you have to say. Now come on, lets get back inside before our food goes cold. I think we could both use something to eat.”

I took that as my cue to put my shirt and hoodie back on, then followed her out of the truck and back into the Blue Moon diner.

We sat back in our booth to find the food Rachel ordered for us had already been served and left out for us like she asked. We can't have been gone that long since it was all still warm, and so I immediately dived into my Belgian waffles while Rachel tucked into hers. We ate in silence, both of us probably too busy thinking about what I'd revealed back in the truck to make conversation about anything else.

When we finished our meals, Rachel finally spoke up. “Will you be okay going home tonight?”

I glanced up and audibly gulped at the question. “Uh... I- I guess so. Why?”

Rachel folded her arms on the table. “Well, it's just that... if your dad is... abusive-”

The way she said that last word made it sound like she was asking for confirmation, and I stared back down at the table while nodding slightly in response.

Rachel continued with determination in her voice, “Then I don't want you staying there any longer, and once Chloe knows the truth, neither will she. I'd offer to let you stay with us in our motel room tonight, but I doubt Chloe would react well to such a surprise while she's still drunk. So how about this; you try to get through one more night at home, I'll talk to Chloe once she's recovered enough from her hangover to use her brain properly, and then we'll swing by early in the morning to take you with us back to Arcadia Bay.”

My eyes almost fell out of my head. “Shit, are you serious?”

Rachel smiled at me. “Yup. I don't know what will happen once we get there, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

My brain was now at odds with itself over whether to refuse or accept her offer. On one hand, I had a pretty good idea what would happen if I actually managed to run away back to Arcadia Bay with them, but on the other was... Chloe.

Needless to say, the idea of finally being by Chloe's side again won outright and I promptly started crying. “Th-thank you. Really. You don't know h-how much this means to me.”

Rachel reached across the table to put one of her hands over mine. “I think I do, actually.” Then she pulled out her phone and tapped at it a few times before asking, “Would you like to see a picture of Chloe?”

I'm fairly sure I stopped breathing upon hearing that, and nodded eagerly, unable to contain my excitement.

Rachel smirked and handed me her phone.

I glanced down at it and saw the unmistakeable face of my childhood best friend. Only now she was five years older and was apparently sporting a punk-rock outfit with her hair completely dyed blue. It was both totally alien and yet so very Chloe at the same time. It suited her. She looked so cool. And beautiful. And-

“Rachel casually threw out, “Hot, right?”

My brain was probably in the middle of reaching that same conclusion, but Rachel's words took it by surprise, leading my mouth to automatically operate without it's filter as I replied, “Yeah, definitely.”

I immediately stared up at her, horrified. “Oh god, please just forget I said that.”

Rachel chuckled at my expression. “Not a chance, Max. Not a chance.”

I shuffled uncomfortably, wishing the seat would swallow me up. “Well then, uh... I guess I should be going now.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Relax, I'm just teasing you. But it is getting late, and I need to check on Chloe, so we should wrap this meeting up.”

I nodded and went to stand, aiming to leave right away to escape the embarrassment.

Rachel grabbed my hand – not my wrist this time – before I could. “Hold on, Max. I'll need your address if we're rescuing you in the morning.”

I blinked. “Oh. Uh... It's just three blocks up the road. Look for the ugly-ass red door and front lawn so messy that it could pass as a jungle. It stands out like a sore thumb against all the other houses around here, you can't miss it.”

Rachel squinted as she committed my shitty directions to her memory, then she added, “You should probably give me your phone number too, so I don't have to contact you from Chloe's phone again.”

I pulled out my phone and quickly exchanged numbers with her, then turned to leave again, but she put a hand on my shoulder and walked around to face me.

Rachel looked into my eyes, unblinking, with a serious expression on her face similar to how she looked when she first walked into the diner. “Max, if anything happens at home and you don't feel safe, I want you to text me. Our motel isn't very far from here, and I will come right away.” She patted her waistband where her holstered gun was hiding before she continued, “I promise I won't let anything else happen to you. Chloe would kill me if I did. So text me if you need help, okay? I mean it.”

I could feel the tears threatening to spill out again but forced them down long enough to reply. “I... okay, y-yeah. I just hope I don't have to. See you in the morning, Rachel.”

Then I quickly walked away before she could stop me a third time.

As soon as I started walking up the street away from the diner, my emotions finally overwhelmed me. The tears began to fall, thick and fast, all the way back home. Luckily the house was still empty when I got inside, so I headed straight to my room and immediately curled up in bed without bothering to undress, wondering if I'd be able to get any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will also be similarly dark, just to forewarn you all.
> 
> See you in a week! :)


	4. S.O.S.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe follows instructions to combat her hangover.
> 
> Rachel receives a text from Max.
> 
> Chloe and Rachel jump into action and rescue their First Mate from hostile territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Like I said at the end of the last chapter, this one is also going to be a little dark. If anyone wants to skip again, feel free to do so.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Life Is Shipwrecked**

**Chapter 4: S.O.S.**

A massively hungover Chloe Price finally woke from her drunken slumber, alone, in an unfamiliar bed and an unrecognizable room with the only source of light being provided by a dimly lit lamp on the bedside table. She didn't know any of this just yet though, because her vision was being blocked by something yellow stuck to her forehead.

I sleepily opened my eyes and was instantly met with a black nothingness. Confused, I tried to blink it away, yet the void persisted. What the fuck? Did I somehow get so drunk this time that I went completely blind? I shook my head slightly and felt something flap against my nose in response, so I clumsily swiped at my face a few times until my hand found the offending item. Not knowing it was currently stuck to my forehead, I grabbed it and went to pull it away from my face, immediately yelping from the momentary pain of having several stray eyebrow hairs ripped out alongside it.

I glared daggers down at what I now saw was just a bright-pink sticky-note, and grumpily flipped it over. There was something written on it. I took a second to rub some of the sleep out of my eyes before peering closer at the words.

_**Hello there! Since you are clearly inexperienced with hangovers, allow me to be your guide. You can start your journey towards returning to a functional sober human being by following these notes that I have left you in my absence. You will find your next step attached to a bucket beside the bed. 1/4 ~RA~** _

I scoffed to myself. “Bitch please, I'm pretty sure I can handle a fucking hangover by now, Rachel.”

Then I abruptly tried to sit up, intending to get out of bed. However, as soon as I did that, the room started spinning so fast that I almost blacked out, causing me to hiss and reluctantly lower myself back down into the pillows while I waited for the dizziness to pass before trying again, except much slower.

This time I succeeded at sitting up, though the room was still spinning a little as I reached over the side of the bed and grabbed the bucket that was placed there. I lifted it up and put it on the bed in-front of me.

There was a second sticky-note stuck to the bucket – which was actually just some cheap-ass plastic trash-can – just like she said there would be.

_**You just tried to prove me wrong and failed, didn't you? Ha! :P This bucket right here is your sick bucket. Now you might not think you feel sick, but you probably will be. Use this if you need it. Otherwise you'll find the next note on the wall across from the bed, approach it when you're ready to try standing up. 2/4 ~RA~** _

I growled under my breath. “Screw you, Rachel. Sorry to disappoint but I actually don't feel sick.”

As soon as my brain thought that was true, my stomach violently disagreed, and a few seconds later I was dry-heaving into the 'sick bucket', having already expelled my stomach contents. I sat there for a minute or two to give myself time to recover, before placing it back on the floor and carefully standing up.

I cautiously walked across the room to the wall opposite the bed where the next sticky-note was.

_**So, you're probably wondering where you are right now and why I'm not there with you when you woke up. I know this is hard for you to do, Chloe, but don't worry. I've gone out for something to eat, and I'll be bringing back your favourite hangover cure to wipe out whatever is left of it by the time I get back. I'll explain everything then. But until I return, the bathroom is through the door on your right, so go take a shower! 3/4 ~RA~** _

I huffed in annoyance and really wanted to ignore her stupid instructions now. Unfortunately, I didn't need to do much sniffing to realize that I definitely still smelled of stale beer and cigarettes, so I stumbled towards the door that supposedly lead into the bathroom.

I pushed it open to find the light already on, illuminating the tiny area that contained just a toilet, a sink, and a shower. Wherever I was, it was apparently too shitty to even include a bathtub. Not that I intended to use it, but still, that's hella lame. The mirror above the sink was cracked in multiple places and smudged with old water droplets, though there was another sticky-note attached to it which is what caught my eye in the first place.

I trudged over to the mirror and squinted my eyes so that I could read it without leaning in any further, taking care not to touch anything in this literal shithole, because I'd probably get infected with something if I did. It was gross in here.

_**You can rest easy, this is the final stop on my tour for people who are inexperienced with hangovers. Enjoy your shower, I've already set it at your preferred temperature. It's just a shame I can't be there with you. ;) Once you're finished, don't try to go exploring outside. I know you'll want to, but please don't leave until I return. It's important. Be back soon! <3 4/4 ~RA~** _

I rolled my eyes and headed over to the shower before stripping out of my clothes, then stepped underneath and turned it on. I was expecting warm water to hit my skin. Instead, I was blasted with ice-cold water, and immediately recoiled, flattening myself against the back wall of the shower and groaning in frustration. Rachel fucking did that on purpose, either as a prank, or to shock me out of me hangover, or both. And since I didn't know how to work the shower in this place, I had no choice but to embrace the freezing shower. Rachel can be such a bitch sometimes.

I hopped back out of the shower a few minutes later, shivering my ass off while rushing to dry myself and warm up as quickly as possible. I was seriously considering leaving wherever the fuck I was just to spite Rachel for what she did, but sadly I heard what must've been the front door unlock and creak open while I was still wrapped in a towel.

I picked up my dirty clothes from the floor before poking my head out of the bathroom to see Rachel putting a box of food and a coffee cup on the bedside table.

Rachel turned and saw me standing in the doorway, which made her smirk. “Hey Chloe, did you have a nice shower?”

In response I narrowed my eyes and separated my tank top from the rest of my dirty clothes before saying, “Fuck!-” and launching it at her. Next I grabbed my jeans and added, “You!-” before throwing those at her too. Then I flung one of my socks at her and continued with, “Rachel!-” before chucking my second sock in her direction and finishing with, “Amber!”

It was probably due to the fact I was still partly hungover that my aim was so terrible, and she easily dodged them all, except for the last sock which thwacked her right in the face before falling to the floor.

Rachel wrinkled her nose in disgust and shook her head with a smile before gesturing to the food on the bedside table. “If that's how you feel then I guess you don't want these bacon and eggs, with extra bacon, I might add. It's probably cold now though, so I'll just eat it instead, shall I?”

She teasingly reached out to grab the box and so I hungrily stormed across the room to snatch it out of her hands. I opened it up to find a plastic knife and fork inside, and the smell of bacon overwhelmed my senses. Now I was definitely hungry like the wolf, and I decided to attack the meal straight out of the box. I didn't even care to put it on a plate, assuming this place even had any plates, which I don't think it did.

Once I'd finished destroying the bacon and eggs, I put the empty box back on the bedside table then took a fresh set of what looked like Rachel's clothes that had been seemingly pulled out of nowhere and returning briefly to the bathroom to change into them; no way was I giving her the satisfaction of watching me strip. After I was fully clothed again, I stepped back out of the bathroom and looked around to find Rachel sitting up at the top of the bed with her knees tucked under her chin and fidgeting with her bracelet. This was something she only ever did when she was about to tell me something I probably wouldn't like.

Now that I was only feeling the last remnants of the hangover, I sauntered over and I scooted onto the bed next to her before bracing myself for something bad and grumbling, “Okay, just spit it out, Rach. Why are you acting like I'm about to rip your head off? And where even are we?”

Rachel gulped, and just said one word, “Seattle.”

I blinked in confusion. There's no way she said that, right? “I don't think I heard you correctly, say that again.”

Rachel sighed. “You heard me correctly, Chloe. We're in Seattle.”

I frowned, trying to keep my voice even. “And... why exactly are we in Seattle?”

Rachel turned to look me in the eye before straightening up and speaking calmly. “Max Caulfield, that's why.”

My eyes instinctively turned to slits at the mention of her name. “You've got to be fucking kidding me. How many times do I have to tell you, I want absolutely nothing to do with that traitorous bitch.”

Rachel scoffed. “Maybe you should try telling your drunk self that, Chloe. Because apparently she does.”

Whatever retort I had ready to fire back fizzled out in my throat because she'd really, honestly, just hit the nail on the head there even if I didn't want to admit it.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at my silence and asked, “What's the last thing you remember from last night?”

I furrowed my brow in thought. “Uh... Almost breaking my neck trying to climb up to your window? After that, there's nothing.”

Rachel nodded. “Yeah, you were out for the count all the way up here. What else do you remember? Before coming to see me, I mean.”

I rubbed my neck as I tried to remember. “Well, I know I was getting drunk at the junk-yard. My memory is real fuzzy after that, but I think... no, I know... um, my dad talked to me again.”

Rachel's eyes went wide. “Shit. You mean he's come back? Hasn't it been like three years since you had one of those, uh... visions? Episodes? Whatever the fuck they are. Didn't he always show up to warn you about something, like he did when we first met? So why now?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. But I think he said this was the last time he'd pay me a visit. He said something else, something important, but I can't remember. It's right on the tip of my tongue. Ugh!”

I watched Rachel chew on her lip for a moment before she hesitantly asked, “Was... he warning you about Max? I mean, you were so out of it when you climbed in through my window, yet you kept repeating the same thing over and over again, saying that you had to 'find Max'. It was so different to your usual drunken rambling, that's why I decided to bite the bullet and drag you up here.”

The forgotten piece finally clicked into place, causing the blood to drain from my face. “Yes! Yes, that's it. He basically told me I needed to stop being so hard on her, that I needed her and she needed me. Fuck knows why. But I was being stubborn and refusing to listen, so he... he used our crappy little radio to make me hear some sort of news announcement about... about M-Max's body being discovered in the morning.”

Rachel's head snapped up so fast that I thought she'd given herself whiplash. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

I wasn't liking this one bit. “Rach, slow down. What is it?”

Rachel went back to worrying her bracelet and groaned. “Okay, so... I kinda managed to get Max to answer her phone while I was driving us up here and I convinced her to meet with me. I didn't bring you because, well, you were still blackout drunk and I thought I needed to, like, vet her first before letting her anywhere near you.”

My voice cracked in astonishment. “You... you saw Max?”

Rachel nodded. “I did. At a diner, that's where your hangover cure came from. Anyway... all I can say is, your dad was right. You really do need to stop being so hard on her.”

I exploded before I could stop myself. “No I fucking don't, Rachel. She left me, she ignored me, she abandoned me when I needed her the most! My life is a fucking mess and half of it is her fucking fault!”

Rachel glared at me with a fire in her eyes that I hadn't seen since the night she started that forest fire over her ass-hole of a father, and I instinctively recoiled as she growled at me. “Chloe Elizabeth Price, if there was ever a time for you to actually listen to what I fucking tell you and take me seriously it's now. Yeah, your life has been a shit-show, but have you ever considered what it could've been like for her? Because let me tell you, just from the little I saw and heard during my meeting with her, she's had a hella rough time over the last five years, just like you have-” I went to retort but she silenced me with another deadly glare and kept speaking. “No, Chloe. For once you're going to pull your head out of your ass and act like an adult. Put those childish feelings of resentment and blame in a box and lock it the fuck up. Your best friend needs you and if you won't trust me on this then I'm walking out of that fucking door and I'm not coming back, because I'm done trying to fix you by myself.”

I'm pretty sure my jaw was stuck to the floor as I stared at her in shock for a solid minute. During that time, the words of my father replayed in my head, and once I'd recovered, I quietly muttered, “If you want me to act like an adult then you should too. Because my dad also told me that you've been distancing yourself from me since you feel like a failure for not being able to 'fix' me which you pretty much just admitted to. But he said that you've been falling back on your old habit of escapism again because of it... Is that true?”

Rachel flinched, and the fire in her eyes completely vanished as she deflated and hung her head. “I... shit. Okay... yeah. I have.”

That hurt. A lot. “So... you were really going to escape the Bay without me?”

She shrugged at that. “Honestly, I don't know. I just can't keep taking care of you every-time you get drunk. I have a life too, you know. And I've been neglecting it for the last three years trying to make yours a little less shitty. And it hasn't worked.”

I scoffed. “That's bullshit. You were there for me when Max wasn't. I know I've been overly dependent on you, but it's not like I have anyone else to turn to. Joyce basically chose David over me. You are the only friend I have.”

Rachel nodded. “And that's why you need Max, so that you have someone else to turn to other than me. Because I'm at my limit, Chloe. I owe you my life, literally, but if you can't find a way to make peace with Max... then I've run out of ways to help you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don't owe me shit, Rach-”

I was interrupted by the sound of Rachel's phone pinging with a text message.

Rachel frowned before pulling it out of her pocket, then her eyes went wide as she read the text and she abruptly scrambled off the bed in a near-panic. “Shit. We'll finish this conversation later. Max just texted me. We need to go, Chloe. Right now.”

I just stared at her in confusion. “Wait, you gave Max your number?”

Rachel huffed and grabbed her jacket. “Damn it, I was going to explain all this stuff before we got sidetracked by talking about me. Yes, I gave her my number and told her to text me if it was an emergency, and that I'd be right there since her house isn't far from here. Listen, your dad has never been wrong in those visits, you know that. So when I say that Max is in danger, I'm not fucking around, Chloe. Now I'm going with or without you, so are you coming or not?”

Now she had my attention, and I rushed to put my shoes on. “How the fuck do you know she's in danger? What from?”

Rachel shook her head. “Just hurry up, I'll fill you in on the way there.”

I quickly followed her out of the door, and was surprised to see that it was still dark outside. “Rach, what time is it?”

She briefly pulled out her phone to glance at it while jumping into the driver's seat of my truck. “Uh... it's just gone past 2:30am. It's only been fifteen minutes since I got back from the damn diner. Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have let her go home!”

Right now I was too much of a mess to even verbalize my discontent at Rachel driving my truck, and got into the passenger side instead. She still had my truck keys too, and almost killed my poor baby in her rush to start it up. Thankfully, it roared to life and she sped out of the small parking lot which now that I could see from the outside, it was attached to a run-down motel that we must've been staying in. So that explained a lot.

I turned towards Rachel apprehensively as she was already breaking the speed limit. “Tell me what's going on, Rach.”

She sighed and glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Okay, Max didn't tell me much. I tried asking her why she ghosted you, but she only told me a half-truth and blamed it on her anxiety. I don't doubt that's a part of it, but I know there's a lot more to it than that. I managed to convince her to open up a little, but I realized I was just a stranger to her and was pushing way too hard for answers. So instead, I offered to let her explain it to both of us together.”

I frowned at that. “For fuck sake, you should've kept pushing. If I don't know in advance why she abandoned me, my anger is going to be the one controlling the conversation. I'll probably deck her before she has a chance to open her mouth.”

Rachel groaned. “Like I said, she did open up a little. And it was... not good, at all. I kinda promised her I wouldn't tell you what she revealed to me, because she deserves the chance to tell you about it herself. That's how serious it is. So please don't try to hit her, Chloe. Believe me, you won't be able to forgive yourself if you do.”

I huffed. “Fine. But how is she in danger right now? Or can't you even tell me that?”

Rachel hesitated for a moment before answering. “I shouldn't tell... but considering what we might be walking into here, well... let's just say, I'm fairly certain that her home isn't a safe place for her.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Meaning... what, exactly?”

Rachel took her attention off the road for a second to look at me with sad eyes while she muttered, “Think David. But worse.”

I audibly gulped at that. “So you're saying... her dad hits her?”

Rachel nodded. “She admitted as much. That's as far as she got before I stopped her.”

I shook my head. “That doesn't make any sense. Her dad, Ryan, he's not like David. I mean, he was built like a scary-ass lumberjack but he was actually cool. There's no way he'd hurt Max.”

Rachel shrugged. “Five years is a long time for lives to get flipped upside down. Anything's possible. You know that.”

I silently hummed in agreement, not liking this one bit.

Rachel turned onto a residential street and slowed the truck to a crawl as she glanced at the houses on either side of the road. She soon found what she was looking for, abruptly pulling up outside a house with an ugly red door and a massively overgrown lawn.

I peered out the window across her. “Max lives here? Are you sure?”

Rachel turned off the truck engine. “I think so. This is the house she described to me, at-least.”

I frowned. “Okay... What's the plan? Do we even have one?”

Rachel glanced at me. “When Max briefly mentioned her dad hitting her, I told her we'd come over in the morning to take her with us back to Arcadia Bay. Regardless of how complicated things might be between you two, if she's really in danger, you know from first-hand experience that she needs to be somewhere safe and familiar. I can't think of anything more safe and familiar than her old home-town with her best friend.”

The idea of that made my stomach do backflips and I nodded at her. “Yeah, I... think I agree with you. So do we just go up and knock?”

Rachel squinted over at the house Max was supposedly living in. “I guess there's no harm in trying the polite approach first. And if that doesn't work-” Then she lifted up her jacket and shirt to show off a holster attached to her waistband with a smallish gun seated within before continuing, “Then it's a good thing I brought this.”

I stared at the holster, wide-eyed. “What the- Rach! You never told me you had a gun. Why is this the first time I'm seeing it?”

Rachel winced. “My dad gave me it, ages ago. I just never touched it because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I'd accepted his attempt at a peace offering, plus I didn't need to carry it in Arcadia Bay. I'm not taking that chance in Seattle, though.”

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully. “I don't suppose there's anything else you're hiding from me that I should know about?”

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, and I wasn't expecting the answer she gave. “...Yeah. It kinda relates to the talk we were having back at the motel. I'm going to tell you once we have a chance to carry on where we left off, but right now it can wait. Max takes priority. Okay?”

I really wanted to scream at her to just tell me and get it over with, but I swallowed down the creeping feelings of betrayal and for once decided to do what she said earlier; act like an adult. “Okay, Rach. Let's go rescue Max. Fuck, I never thought I'd have to say that.”

Then I threw open the passenger side door and stepped out of the truck, with Rachel scrambling to do the same.

We walked up a narrow stone-slab path that split the tall grass into two sides as it lead to the front door.

Upon reaching it, I froze for a moment before raising my fist and knocking several times.

Whatever material this door was made out of, it must've muffled the sound of my knocking because nobody came to answer it.

I was just about to knock harder when I heard a muffled scream coming from inside.

After a quick glance at Rachel, it was clear that she'd heard it too. I didn't imagine it.

A second scream erupted from within, and this time my blood froze as I recognized it to be the unmistakeable sound of Max. Whatever thoughts my brain were having got crushed into nothing, replaced with a reminder of my childhood when I first met Max, on that fateful day when I'd heard a scream on the playground at school and ended up rescuing a shy little girl from a pack of bullies. That old instinctual protectiveness returned, smashing into me at full force.

I turned to Rachel, furious that anyone dared to hurt Max, and hissed, “Fuck the polite approach.”

Then I took a couple of steps back, before launching myself at the door and slamming my foot into it as hard as I could.

I'd never kicked in a door before, so I was very surprised when the door splintered and almost came off it's hinges just from my first attempt. They must've had a real shitty lock.

The shock wore off almost instantly, and I was about to charge ahead into the house when Rachel put her arm out to stop me. “Don't be stupid, Chloe. Let me go first.”

I didn't want to. Every bone in my body itched to reach Max as quickly as possible, but Rachel was the one with a gun, and I had no idea what we were walking into here, so I reluctantly nodded at her.

Rachel stepped forward and pulled the gun from her holster, before slowly creeping through the now-broken front door, while I impatiently followed behind. The entire house seemed to be shrouded in darkness. Well, it was the middle of the night, so it made sense, but the shadows still freaked me the fuck out.

She was taking her time, checking every corner, making sure we didn't get ambushed, and it seemed almost like she knew what she was doing. I on the other hand only knew some of this shit because of the many rants about proper weapon usage that David used to go on, though that was back before I stopped sleeping at home, of-course.

We then heard a noise come from above us, and Rachel must've secretly been feeling just as impatient as me because she suddenly stopped her house-sweeping and changed direction, heading straight for the nearby staircase. At-least there didn't seem to be anyone downstairs. There was just Max and if I had to guess, her dad, that were upstairs. Most likely in Max's bedroom, if he was bothering her in the middle of the night like this.

That thought made my stomach drop, and I suddenly had a really bad feeling. My legs rushed to catch up to Rachel on the stairs, pushing her from behind slightly to make her go faster. We reached the top, and it was just as dark up here as the rest of the house was, except for a light spilling out of an open door towards the far end of the hallway on the left side.

As we slowly tiptoed closer, I was surprised that her dad hadn't come to investigate the sound of his front door being kicked in. Maybe he somehow didn't hear it?

When we reached the doorway, Rachel stopped for a moment and slowly exhaled before cautiously peeking her head around the corner. Whatever she saw inside made her let out a gasp, and before I could even register it, she'd already moved inside. So I took a deep breath of my own, then pushed off from the wall and joined her inside what must've been Max's bedroom.

Rachel was standing just a few steps in-front of me beyond the doorway, frustratingly blocking most of my view of what was happening, but I could see that she had her gun aimed across the room and heard her snarl, “Hey ass-hole! Get the fuck away from her, right now!”

A surprised grunt came from whoever she was talking to, and a few seconds later, Rachel stepped further into the room, allowing me to walk in behind her and actually see what was happening.

My eyes darted around the room in an attempt to take in the scene as quickly as possible. The first thing I saw was that Max's room was apparently even more of a mess than mine was, with clothes and bits of trash scattered randomly across the floor, which I definitely wasn't expecting to see.

I spotted movement over Rachel's shoulder, and finally saw the person she was aiming the gun at, who was in the process of stumbling over towards the left side of the room. At first, I thought it was just some random guy. Until he turned around and I saw the signature beard of Ryan Caulfield, although it had grown out since I last saw him and was clearly not being maintained. He was still built like a lumberjack, but he seemed to have put on quite a lot of weight, and that combination looked very strange on him.

Ryan stared at Rachel with wide, bloodshot eyes, and if it wasn't already obvious that he was hella drunk... He had the bright idea to decide to lunge at her, only getting a couple of steps before comically tripping over his own feet and landing with a thud on the floor.

Rachel spat down at him. “If you even think of trying that again, I'm going to fucking shoot you. Nod if your drunk ass understands.”

Ryan sluggishly nodded at her as he slowly climbed back to his feet.

A small whimper cut through the silence in the room, and I remembered that Max was in here too.

I leaned around Rachel to get a better view of the opposite side of the room, and finally laid eyes on Max for the first time in five years. I felt no joy in doing so. Only horror. And a burning rage that quickly drowned out everything else as I took in the sight of Max sat on the bed, curled up against the corner of the wall. She was topless, and apparently having trouble keeping one of her bra straps from falling down her shoulder. I could see countless scars and cuts lining both her arms, and as if that wasn't enough, there was several fresh bruises dotting her stomach and chest, alongside a whole bunch of others that were still in the process of healing.

I turned my gaze back to Ryan, and noticed that his belt was half undone. That was the final straw. To say II saw red was an understatement, and I charged at him. Rachel tried to grab the back of my jacket but I was too quick for her and slipped out of her fingers. With my path to Ryan unimpeded, I planned on kicking his ass, at the very least. But in the split second it took me to close the distance, one glance at the wide-eyed look on Max's face as she watched me, made me re-evaluate that idea. Even if he deserved it, I didn't want Max's first impression of me after five years to be something like a bloodthirsty animal.

So instead, I shifted my footing and barrelled right into Ryan, the momentum sending both of us crashing into the wall. In an instant, I had an arm shoved up against his throat, pinning him to the wall so he couldn't escape. Ryan might be a heavyweight lumberjack, but I was a lot stronger than I look. People always underestimated that about me, especially when adrenaline, rage, and my instinct to protect Max all came together in the same equation.

I glared at Ryan in disbelief while he was trying to recover from having the air knocked out of his lungs and growled angrily, “Please tell me you recognize me. This will be so much better if you do.”

Ryan blinked slowly and wheezed, “I don't know who you are. Now get out of my house!”

I scoffed at him. “Or what, you'll call the cops? Please, go right ahead, dumb-ass.” Then I leaned back just enough for him to get a better view of me before asking, “Quiz time. Who was your daughter's best friend before you moved to Seattle?”

Ryan furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. “Uh... Her name was Chloe, not that it's any of your business. Why the hell are you asking?”

My eyes turned into slits. “Because, you stupid fuck, I am Chloe Price.”

He frowned and chuckled nervously. “No you're not.”

I rolled my eyes this time. “Are you sure about that? Take a long, hard, look. Go ahead, tell me that I don't look like the person who considered you to be her second father. Because I sure as shit don't recognize the absolute cunt standing in-front of me right now, Ryan Caulfield.”

Ryan's eyes went wide as it dawned on him. “Oh... shit. Chloe?”

I huffed. “Finally, there we go! Now, please tell me how the person that I looked up to as a child could possibly hurt his own daughter.”

Ryan floundered under my angry gaze. “No, Chloe... You don't understand-”

I interrupted him by kneeing him hard in the balls. “Actually, I changed my mind. You're a horrible parent and human being. There is absolutely nothing you could say that would justify any of this. Man, if only my dad was here now to see what you've done to _his_ second daughter, you'd already be dead.” Then I leaned closer and whispered into his ear, “I'm sure you remember now how protective I used to be around Max. So the only reason I haven't gutted you like a fish myself yet is because she's watching me. You should consider yourself lucky that your daughter still has that effect on me even after five years apart.”

I momentarily increased the pressure of my arm against his throat so that he understood I was being deadly serious, before reluctantly stepping away and turning to Rachel. “The Ryan Caulfield I remember loved his daughter and would never hurt her... but I don't recognize the disgrace of a father standing in-front of me right now. Rach, if he even so much as twitches, please shoot him.”

Rachel pursed her lips and nodded at me, then re-pointed her gun at his chest now that I wasn't in the way.

With my blood-rage somewhat dampened, there was only one thing left to do. So I spun around to look at Max, who hadn't moved from her position on the bed and was currently sobbing into her knees. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my feet to move towards her.

Now that I was stood next to her, I was able to see all the cuts and bruises on her body up close, and my heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces.

I hesitantly called out to her. “Max...?”

She flinched and curled in on herself even more, trying to hide herself from view. “Don't... don't l-look at m-me, I'm-”

I knew what she was thinking and cut her off, perhaps a little harshly than I intended. “Don't you dare finish that sentence, Max Caulfield!”

Max's head snapped up in surprise and we looked at each other properly for the first time in years. Whatever she was going to say died in her throat as she quite literally got lost staring into my eyes.

I smiled and held her gaze while I knelt down, then shrugged off my jacket so I could drape it protectively around her so that she could cover herself up a little better.

Max's breath hitched when my fingers made contact with her bare shoulder and she mumbled, “Thank y-you...”

I wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in a hug, but now was not the time for that. “Max, I'm getting you the fuck out of here, okay? Can you walk?”

Max reluctantly uncurled herself and scooted to the edge of the bed before placing her feet on the floor. “Yeah... I think so.”

I nodded. “Come on, then. You're not spending another second under this roof.”

Max panicked for a moment. “But... I thought we were leaving in the morning? I didn't have a chance to pack anything yet.”

Rachel spoke from across the room. “Don't worry about it. I have a spare set of clothes back at the motel, they should be your size. You can wear those until we get to Arcadia Bay, and I'll take you shopping for whatever else you need. You know I can afford it.”

I raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Wait, you can?”

Rachel blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I'll explain later, Chloe.” Then she glanced at Max again and added, “Is there anything in here that you absolutely want to take before we go?”

Max frowned in thought, then shakily stood up and stumbled across the room while clinging onto my arm for support. She lead me over to what looked like a mirror flipped over on the wall and blindly reached around the back, or in this case the front, before finding what she was looking for and withdrawing a picture that must've been stuck to it.

I managed to catch a glimpse of what it was, an old picture of me, before she held it tightly against her chest to hide it from view. She glanced sheepishly at me to see if I'd seen it, then blushed and quickly averted her eyes once she realized I had, in-fact, seen it.

Max scanned the rest of her room for anything else she wanted. When she looked about ready to leave, something glinting on the floor caught her eye and she froze for a second before deciding to walk over to it.

She had her back to me when she picked it up, but Rachel must've seen what it was because her eyes went wide. “Max, no. You don't need that any-more. You have us, now.”

My confused expression must've mirrored hers, because she replied with a, “Huh? What do you mea-” before abruptly going quiet for a moment, and her voice cracked when she started up again, “O-oh... I'm not bringing it for... what you're thinking. It's just, if you can have a gun for protection, then why can't I have a knife?”

I blinked at that, and Max finally turned around so I could see the knife she was talking about. Yet only when I saw that the blade was tinted red did I put things together, causing the blood in my veins to turn into ice as I suddenly understood what Rachel had meant.

They were both oblivious to my reaction though, as Rachel reluctantly shrugged at her. “Touché. Fine, then. If that's everything, let's get out of here already.”

Ryan, who'd been silently observing until now, made his presence known again. “Maxine, you're still 17. You can't run away from me. And you know what will happen if you do.”

Max instantly froze up at his voice, and took a deep breath before turning around to glare at him. “Good. You can go to hell, because I don't give a shit any-more.”

Ryan's jaw dropped in surprise and he attempted to step towards her but I'd already launched forward and slammed him back into the wall before Rachel even had a chance to shoot at him.

I hissed dangerously. “Max is coming with me, Ryan. There's nothing you can do to stop it. I'm sure you know that if you called the cops, they'd just arrest your ass instead, and if you even think of trying to follow us, Rachel will shoot you. Now, I'm taking Max back to her real home where she'll be safe from you, the one she never should've left in the first place. You might've survived this time, but nobody hurts my best friend and gets away with it, especially not you, and I promise that if you so much as step a foot inside Arcadia Bay or try to find Max, I will find you first and kill you without hesitation for what you did to her. Am I clear?”

Ryan stared at me for a moment before slowly nodding and hanging his head in what looked like shame. He must've sobered up enough to finally realize he'd fucked up, not that I cared. Sober or drunk, he still hurt Max and was now squarely at the top of my shit list.

I took a hard look at the person Ryan had become, and right then and there I vowed to stop drinking. I didn't want Max to look at me and be reminded of her father, nor did I want to turn into a monster like him. So I was going cold turkey. For Max. No matter how much I tried to hide it, I knew I'd do anything for her.

After sneering in disgust at him for the final time, I backed off and slowly escorted Max out of her former home while Rachel kept an eye on our backs, in-case Ryan stupidly came after us.

Luckily he didn't, and we made it back to the truck without an issue. Rachel got into the driver's seat again and this time I was fine with it, since I was too pre-occupied with ensuring Max's safety to care. I opened the passenger side and jumped in first so that Max wasn't squashed between both of us, then once she'd climbed in after me, Rachel started the truck and headed off back in the direction of our motel.

Now that the threat of Ryan wasn't looming over us, nobody knew what to say, so we drove in complete silence. Naturally, I had a million questions, but Max had awkwardly curled up against the door as soon as we got in, tightening my jacket around her and refusing to look at me, instead she just stared out of the window. Rachel was focused on the road for the most part, though she kept glancing between me and Max, probably waiting for me to explode or something. Yet as much as I wanted to, I couldn't. Once Max was safe, sure, but not now. And I had questions for Rachel too, of-course, since we'd never finished our conversation before we came to rescue Max, but those could also wait. My only priority right now was making sure that Max was okay, nothing else mattered. Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like The Final Timeline - Before The Storm, this is also the end of my current backlog for this fic. I really haven't had much chance to write since the new year, but hopefully I can pick it back up again soon, especially without the pressure of having a weekly deadline to write new chapters in, which is what burned me out most of the time when I was writing Pricefield - Time Warriors. Until then, I'll leave the specifics of what might've been happening in this chapter up to your imagination.
> 
> See you some time in the near future! :)


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